


Uniformity

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: zine: Power Star Issue 81
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:34:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21017357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: [FromPower StarDecember 1994 Issue 81 Written by Kimberly Murphy-Smith.]Ever wonder how Harry Truman and Dennis Bryson came up with their plan to rescue Dale Cooper inTwin Peaks'episode 2013? Then you’ll love this story that speculates how it might have been done.





	Uniformity

"You shouldn't've let him go in," were the first words out of Dennis Bryson's mouth when he reached Harry Truman at the Twin Peaks Sheriff Department's cruiser.   
  
Exasperated, Harry snapped, "It wasn't my call—he just stood up and started in! I yelled at him, but the only way I could have stopped him was to shoot him myself, and that didn't seem like much of a solution."   
  
Dennis touched his arm. "Sorry, I forgot, he does things like this and he doesn't follow orders well. Look, Sheriff, we've got to get him out of there."   
  
"Exactly what I had in mind."   
  
"No, you don't understand. We've got to get him out **right away. **Renault holds Cooper responsible for his brothers' deaths."   
  
"OK—any ideas?"   
  
Dennis shook his head. "We might be able to deal with King—he just wants to get out of all this." He smiled grimly. "Renault's the problem; killing Cooper's all he's talked about."   
  
Harry considered this for a moment, looking at Dennis thoughtfully. "I think I've got an idea." He pulled Hawk aside, murmured a few words to him, then grabbed Dennis's arm. "Come with me."   
  
"Where're we going?"   
  
"The Double-R."   
  
"You're hungry **now**?"   
  
  
** ^ ^ **   
  
  
Harry switched off the siren as he pulled up in front of the Double-R. Norma was holding the door open for them when they got to it. "Harry, what's wrong?" she asked.   
  
Harry took her arm and led her into the kitchen. "First off," he said, "we need a uniform."   
  
Several facetious remarks came to Norma's mind, but Harry's obvious urgency pushed them aside. "What size?"   
  
"I could probably wear one of yours," Dennis said, looking her up and down.   
  
Norma stared at him. She'd assumed he was just another federal agent, but now she realized she knew him . . . she just couldn't place him.   
  
"Norma," Harry continued, "we've got a hostage situation at Dead Dog Farm. Agent Bryson is going in after Cooper, but he needs—"   
  
"I need to get back into women's clothes," Dennis finished.   
  
Now Norma realized where she'd seen him . . . he'd been a 'her' the last time he came in.   
  
"Sheriff Truman thinks—and I agree—that the old take-'em-some-food ploy will work—with a little modification. But I need a waitress’s uniform."   
  
Norma nodded, feeling a bit stunned. "Happy to help. I'll be right back."   
  
A moment later she was back with a uniform on a hanger. "Here you go," she said. "I don't have a fresh apron; let me give you mine." She untied the apron and handed it to Dennis.   
  
"Thank you," he said, taking the garments   
  
"Anything else?" She asked.   
  
Harry smiled. "One more thing: a tray with a couple of covered plates."   
  
"I'll go get it ready."   
  
"Put some food on the plates," Dennis advised. "They'll be hungry by the time we get it to them, and I want them to be able to smell it."   
  
"I'll do that," she agreed.   
  
"We'll pick it up on the way back," Harry said.   
  
"It'll be ready."   
  
Harry patted her arm. "We'll be back soon."   
  
As Norma was watching them drive away, Shelly came to the front door. "What's going on?" she asked.   
  
Norma continued to watch through the door. "I'm not sure . . . ."   
  
  
** ^ ^**   
  
  
Harry found it a peculiar experience, sitting on the bed while Dennis changed clothes. Showering, dressing and undressing with other men had been a part of his life for a long time, and he'd never given it a second thought. But none of these guys had been putting on panty hose, a padded bra, and a dress. Observing this somehow seemed indecent.   
  
"You'll need a gun, Harry observed.   
  
"They'll check the tray, Dennis said.   
  
Harry watched as Dennis—Denise—did his hair in front of the mirror. "I know. That's why we're not putting it on the tray."   
  
"Well, I think it will make quite a lump if I stick it down my bra."   
  
"No, not there either . . . ." He was rapidly running out of options. "We know Cooper was on the floor just inside the door. An ankle holster would be perfect if it wasn't so damn obvious—Cooper could reach it, anyway . . . ." Harry sat in silence for a moment, letting his crazy idea blossom fully. "We've got to rig a holster Cooper can get to before Renault and King catch on. If he's still in the same position . . . ."   
  
Denise motioned to his suitcase. “Why don't you see what you can come up with while I do my make-up? I know the make-up seems trivial, but it's important for the effect."   
  
Harry moved the open suitcase to the bed. "You're the expert."   
  
Denise just smiled and nodded.   
  
Going through Denise's undergarments was an even more peculiar experience, strangely intimate, strangely intrusive, as if he was handling Denise's personal life. There were several pairs of sensible white boxer shorts and half a dozen pairs of silky panties of various soft pastels; two white T-shirts and a lacy white bra—very well-padded—and that was identical to the black one he'd watched Denise slip into aa few moments ago; a pair of black panty hose, and four pairs of black socks, two cotton, two silk. And they all belonged to one D.E.A. Agent Bryson.   
  
Denise turned from the mirror and watched him with an amused expression on his face. "Find anything interesting?"   
  
Harry shook his head, completely at a loss for words.   
  
"You'd probably like an explanation."   
  
Harry looked at him squarely. "You don't owe me any kind of explanation. Cooper said you were one of the best, and that would've been good enough for me, but I've seen how good you are. That's all that matters."   
  
Denise smiled. "But you'd still like an explanation."   
  
"Well," Harry admitted, "I still don't understand. But that doesn't mean you have to explain anything."   
  
"We don't really have time right now anyway," Denise agreed. "Maybe when this is over, you can buy me a drink and I'll tell you my life story."   
  
Harry looked at him uncertainly, the went back to examining the underwear as Denise went back to doing his make-up.   
  
"Where exactly does that skirt hit you?" Harry asked thoughtfully.   
  
"What?"   
  
"I think I have an idea." Harry felt around for his pocket knife, found it, and began making alterations on the black panty hose.   
  
Denise brushed powder across his nose, then looked in the mirror. "All done," he pronounced, then stood up. "Oh, would you hand me those black socks? The silk ones, both pair."   
  
Harry gave them to him and watched as Denise slid a pair into each of the cups of his bra. Then, hands on his breasts, he shifted his shoulders in the universal adjusting yourself movement. If Denise knew he was watching, he gave no indication. "Now, what exactly did you have in mind?"   
  
"Come over here and lift your skirt."   
  
Denise put a hand on his hip. "I don't know what you've heard about me, Sheriff, but I'm not that kind of girl."   
  
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "I've got an idea."   
  
"I thought so, but we really don't have time."   
  
Harry kept shaking his head. "I'll try to keep my mind of my work if you'll do the same. Now, I think I've got an idea here. I've rigged up a holster. Put these on so I can how they fit."   
  
Denise stepped out of his pumps and stepped into what was left of the black panty hose. The legs had been cut off at about knee level, with what remained of the legs rolled up to mid-thigh. "You've ruined my only pair of black hose."   
  
"If this works, I'll buy you a dozen pair. I think it will. Hold up your skirt and I'll make some minor alterations."   
  
Denise hoisted his skirt and Harry knelt down and adjusted the ends of the panty hose. He was feeling totally out of touch with reality. The events with Leland Palmer had been beyond comprehension, but he'd been an observer. This was **personal.** He picked up his pocket knife.   
  
Denise suddenly stepped back. "Just what kind of alteration did you have in mind?" he asked. "Don't let the dress fool you—I have no desire to make **those** alterations. And if I did, I wouldn't pick a sheriff with a pocket knife to make them."   
  
"Get back over here," Harry ordered. "I'm making you a thigh holster."   
  
Denise stepped closer. "All right. But be careful. I'm ticklish."   
  
Harry cautiously cut through the nylon on each side, making pockets. "We might have to improvise, so I made you ambidextrous. If Cooper's still sitting on the floor, all you have to do is lift your skirt a little . . . "   
  
". . . and while King and Renault are looking at my legs, Cooper can grab the gun."   
  
"With any luck."   
  
"Nice plan. It has style."   
  
"Thanks. Where's your gun?"   
  
"Over there, next to you."   
  
Harry pulled it out of its holster and slid it in against Denise's right thigh. Now that was one place he never thought he'd be putting his hands. "Uh . . . how's that feel?"   
  
"I wouldn't want to make it a permanent part of my wardrobe," Denise observed dryly, "but it's comfortable enough. Let me walk around a little, see if it looks suspicious." He stepped back into his pumps and Harry watched as he sauntered back and forth across the room. "Well, what do you think?"   
  
"Actually, it's kind of sexy."   
  
"You're too kind. Well, let's get this show on the road." 

** ^ ^ **

  
Norma had the tray waiting for them when they got to the diner. She handed it to Harry, eyeing Denise critically. "Wait a second," she said, stopping them as they were going out the door. She pulled off her sweater and handed it to Denise. "Here, I think the long sleeves will work better . . . and anyway, it's cold out there."   
  
Denise smiled at her. "Thank you."   
  
"Now, do you know how to carry a tray?"   
  
"Yeah, I went undercover as a waiter a couple of year ago."   
  
“Well, then, you're all set. Good luck. And be careful, both of you."   
  
"Believe me, I'll do everything I can to make sure you get your uniform back unharmed," Denise assured her.   
  
"Don't worry, Norma," Harry said. "We'll all be in for breakfast." 

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: This story takes place during episode 2013 of _Twin Peaks,_ where Cooper has allowed himself to be taken hostage by Jean Renault, exchanging his own freedom for the safety of Norma Jennings's stepfather, Ernie Niles and D.E.A Special Agent Dennis Bryson, who often cross-dresses under the name of Denise.] 
> 
> [I think this is actually an editor's note, written by _Power Star's_ Managing Editor Kimberly Murphy-Smith, because I'm pretty sure I didn’t write it.]


End file.
